


a sunday kind of love

by ricciardos



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Character Study, HONEST TO GOD not very sure what is it, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Plotless Fluff basically, Songfic, charles and max are bffs in this, i was very self indulgent, not even sure how to tag this tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricciardos/pseuds/ricciardos
Summary: Charles wants a Sunday kind of love.Whether he can get it is another matter altogether.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	a sunday kind of love

Charles wants a Sunday kind of love. 

A Sunday kind of love, he muses. 

Charles thinks a lot about whether it’s possible to tumble into bed with someone on Saturday night, the scent of alcohol fresh on their skin, and wake up the next day feeling the same level of euphoria. He wonders whether he will ever have the fortune of having someone cradle his cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his forehead the next morning. He can only imagine what it’s like to have someone whisper sweet assurances of seeing him tomorrow into his hair, and have them stay for breakfast the next day. 

Charles wants a Sunday kind of love. Whether he can get it is another thing altogether. 

-

By now, Charles is at an age where everything is kind of in limbo. Personal life, and otherwise. 

He’s at an age where most of his friends who he used to party with have all settled down, in a stable relationship or career. None of them have the time (or frankly, the alcohol tolerance) to go out partying until the hour hand pushes 3am with him anymore, leaving him alone in the disco light shadow of whatever club in Monaco that’s open, the repetitive house music long losing its appeal. 

Case in point: Max and Daniel, who got engaged last month, set to be married today. 

Charles can’t help but feel like their entire process is a little rushed. 

(It’s not entirely out of character though. All their lives, they’ve run against a clock, desperate to shave a few milliseconds off the stopwatch. Planning a wedding, it seems, is no different.)

“How do you know he’s the one?” He whispers as Max’s best man, helping him adjust his tie. Max looks dashing, with his hair slicked back. Charles has taken careful care to hide all Red Bull caps in the perimeter to prevent Max from ruining the perfectly couture look Charles has picked out for him. 

(Max might be the fastest rival he has ever faced, but he’s still a little slow in the fashion department.)

“You just know, mate. You just know.” 

He knows what Max means. He's seen him and Daniel go from bashful side looks at every press conference to their first ever movie date, Max nearly screaming through the phone when he told Charles that Daniel had held his hand during the entirety of the movie. Now, here they were. 

Charles looks at Max, who has the same look of determination and assuredness as he’s ever had, on and off track. Except, this time, it’s softened with the tell-tale signs of bliss and happiness. 

Charles wonders what it’s like to be so sure of loving someone that you promise them your today, tomorrow, and forever. 

He wonders what it’s like to be loved by someone that can promise you their today, tomorrow and forever. 

He has had no success in that department thus far. 

-

The wedding commences and everything is in full swing. Charles has lost count of the number of times he’s run from table to table, checking that the flowers are in the right place, the lion and honey badger embellished on every single towel in the dining area. Charles has absolutely, positively lost count of the handshakes and claps on the back he has received as Max’s best man, sometimes wondering himself whether this is his wedding that he’s unaware of. 

Charles has lost count of the number of times he’s seen Pierre in a suit, but he knows it’s exactly equivalent to the number of times he gets lost for words. 

He looks good, really good. 

Pierre looks his way and gives him a smile, his midnight blue suit catching the light filtering through the window. 

Charles thinks he could stay in this moment forever, basking in the light that Pierre radiates. 

They chat throughout the night, whenever Charles isn’t busy making sure the wedding is running properly. It’s always a few snippets of conversation here and there, somehow always being able to find each other in a crowded dining room full of streamers and people who talk too loud. Charles stands at the altar behind Max, watching as they both deliver their wedding vows to each other. Daniel accidentally swears more than once, and Max stumbles over a few words through the tears in his eyes. 

When it comes to Charles turn to make a toast during lunch, he's nervous. But his eyes roam around the room until they find Pierre's brown ones. Pierre gives him a smile and a thumbs up.

Somewhere in between Charles fumbling for the paper with his speech and Pierre's smile, everything in his head has stopped spinning. His speech about the fortune of finding love where you least expect it comes off without a hitch. 

\- 

It’s only during the first dance that Charles has a proper time to sit down and rest his tired feet. Somehow or another, Pierre finds his way to take the empty seat next to him. 

(Charles definitely didn’t purposefully choose a seat that had an empty one beside it, conveniently in Pierre’s line of sight.)

Wordlessly, they watch as Max and Daniel move together on the dance floor to Can I Have This Dance from High School Musical, laughing a little at the way Max groans in embarrassment from the song choice and Daniel acts as the ever gallant Zac Efron. 

Charles allows himself a sideway glance at Pierre, who giggles a little when Daniel grabs Max and dips him on the dance floor before spinning him up again, causing Max to shriek a little. 

If he hadn’t fallen the previous 10 years of their friendship, he sure was a goner tonight. 

Charles gathers up the courage in his little lion heart to ask Pierre for a dance, just as Ed Sheeran comes on. 

-

Charles wakes up the next morning with the other side of the bed empty, but with the blanket pulled up over his shoulder a little higher than it was the previous night. There’s an extra set of clothes on the bedroom floor, but for the first time in a long time Charles is sober enough to know who’s midnight blue suit is draped over the chair at the side of the room. The smell of fresh crepes wafts into his room. 

A sharp curse in French from the kitchen followed by running water causes Charles to laugh a little. 

Charles is torn between feeling very much like a fraud as well as a winner. 

(A fraud: one who has fallen too fast and too soon for a French man with unruly hair a mix of dirty blonde and brunette brown -- surely, it’s impossible to transition from a lifetime of one night stands to the kind of affection that has your heart racing and pumping the way his is now)

(A winner: someone who has the opportunity, the privilege, of falling in love with your best friend.) 

“Charles, there are crepes for you!”

For now, he settles for a winner. 

After all, he’s found his Sunday kind of love. And it came in the form of burnt crepes, first dances, and the classic grin that Pierre gives him that makes him feel like he can conquer anything and everything.

**Author's Note:**

> charles and pierre are really my brand huh. someone please hold me back 
> 
> I TRIED MY BEST i really am in love with the concept of going through a transition of saturday night hookups to a sunday morning kind of love. Hopefully this helps me get back in the swing of writing again, I really missed this!
> 
> comments and kudos are always welcome! i am @sainz-and-gang on tumblr


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